


Angsty August

by diemarysues



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-07-29 07:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 7,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7675651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Single word prompts filled with various pairings for the month of August. Quick 200 word droubles.<br/>500 words every 5 days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Broken - Bagginshield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None

Bilbo was the second to realise. When he sat Thorin down that night, his husband did not look surprised.

 

He looked down. “What are we going to do?”

 

“I think we both know there is nothing more to do. We tried.”

 

“Did we?”

 

“I certainly have been.”

 

That stung. But… was probably true. And it’d explain the gifts and surprises Thorin had been springing on to him these past few months. And it might explain why Bilbo hadn’t been very stirred by those efforts, since it had only been one of them putting in said effort.

 

“What about Frodo?”

 

At this Thorin’s stoic expression broke, but only for a moment. “I assume you’ll get full custody if you want it. You were named his guardian in the first place.”

 

Bilbo rubbed his forehead. “We’ll have to tell him. He deserves to make that decision for himself.”

 

“As you wish.”

 

In the past, that phrase would have meant something more than the simple promise it was. They had loved watching the Princess Bride, especially with Frodo. But then, they _had_ loved each other. They _had_ been married for ten years.

 

And they _had_ been wearing each other’s rings just this morning.


	2. Alcohol - Dwalin/Nori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mention of oral sex, mention of alcohol imbibing.   
> Additional tags: Non-established relationship.

Thieves have to be quick and calm, they have to make do with what’s around them, adapt or get caught, die. Even through injuries within and without they have to think clearly and keep their wits. This applies too to self-inflicted wit-inhibitors. Like alcohol.

 

Stealing isn’t the problem in this case and neither is getting caught. It’s getting caught by the object of one’s unfortunate affections that’s the problem. Because alcohol and objects of affection? Those two definitely don’t mix.

 

Nori goes quietly, just to make things less painful, but this causes Dwalin to pay more attention to him. Maybe he’s expecting some sort of escape. Nori prefers to be out of cuffs before attempting a breakout, but that’s just him.

 

When they reach the cell Dwalin lingers, and _damn him_ for doing that, for presenting the perfect opportunity for Nori to push him up against the bars and kiss him. Before he knows it he’s on his knees stuffed full of cock enough to make his cheeks bulge. But he’s left alone in the cell that night with his own erection throbbingly mocking him. In the morning, when Nori has a migraine and too many regrets, Dwalin doesn’t return.


	3. Recoil - Dwalin/Bilbo/Thorin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Prejudice against poly relationships, some bad things are said here, the author does not share these views.  
> Additional tags: None.

_Disgusting. Selfish. Cruel. Are they treating him right? Is it like a pimp thing?_

 

Being open with non-‘normal’ relationships was difficult. People faced persecution for being who they were all over the world, but when it happened to you… it just hurt all the more.

 

They had come to the decision of being open with their relationship together – but that was the official statement. In truth, Dwalin had been actively pushing for it, Bilbo had been against it, and Thorin hadn’t cared either way. Perhaps they could have just kept with their arrangement, but someone would have found out eventually, and then there would be accusations of cheating, which this wasn’t.

 

_Greedy. One lover is enough for everyone else. Do they bully the littler one? Is he their bitch?_

 

They had support but the hate was more numerous, more obvious, more painful. These people didn’t understand that there was love and trust between the three of them. They didn’t understand that there was more to their relationship than physical attraction and sex. They just saw two large men – _related_ , no less – who had a smaller, more ‘effeminate’ man under their thumbs. (Or cocks.)

 

Even Dwalin leaving didn’t solve things.

 

_Disgusting._


	4. Locked - Fili/Ori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Canon, for once.  
> Additional tags: None.

It had been a long time since he’d felt wind on his face. For a Dwarf, this wasn’t a usual longing, but Ori had been born and raised without a mountain. He had grown up amongst trees and grass instead of stalactites and stalagmites. And now that he was and had been underground for some time, he found that he missed even the simple sensation of sun against skin.

 

But what he missed more, lacked for a longer time, was the feel of fine hair between his fingers.

 

Fine hair the colour of firelight on gold, simply braided, yet a point of pride as it should be. Beads swinging from the ends of a moustache, a good weight to tug on to gain attention. A clasp worn sometimes, fixed at the back of his head, helping to show off the studs in his ears. It always gave him a cockier lilt to his walk.

 

Fine hair the colour of rust once they’d found him after the battle. One bead ripped off. And the clasp missing – not missing, given to Ori as a promise that would never be fulfilled.

 

But he’d see Fíli soon.

 

_Drums in the deep. They are coming._


	5. Alone - Fili/Sigrid/Ori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New rule! Every 5th day gets a 500-word drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Canonical character death.  
> Additional tags: It's more Fili/Ori and Ori/Sigrid tbh.
> 
> Never written Sigrid before, hope I didn't butcher her D=

Ori had never been good at timing.

 

He’d fallen for Fíli – of course he had. The Dwarf was a Prince of the line of Durin, with a strong nose and wide shoulders, with golden hair that seemed effortless – unlike his own brown and bedraggled, still-cared-for-by-Dori locks. He was clever and capable and absolutely everything a hero should be, if books had anything to say on it.

 

But when could he ever reveal his feelings? Not when he was so obviously the ‘youngest’ of the group even though it was Fíli and Kíli who lacked years on him. Having doting older brothers would not produce a winning picture to offer someone who had most everything and could ask for what little still lacked.

 

So he kept silent and admired from afar, admiration sometimes tempered by his own concern over Kíli’s ever-worsening wound, sometimes flared at the sight of Fíli’s own concern.

 

And then they procured the help of the Man called Bard and, dripping and shivering in his cold shack, Ori caught sight of true beauty. She was called Sigrid and she was kind despite clever caution. Ori wondered why she sought his company out more than the others, who surely were more well formed and interesting than he, but no, Ori, she’d say, you are interesting to me.

 

He explained their age differences, which ended up being moot as they were currently equals in their equivalent lifespans. Then Ori brought up their lifespans, but Sigrid stubbornly told him that he would find someone else but for now it could be her. If he wanted.

 

And he wanted. And he got. But too soon he had to leave. The Quest was not so easily thrown away. Ori stared at her tear-filled eyes as they drifted away along the lake.

 

Fíli cornered him one night while they were in Erebor and Ori half expected that Thorin suspected he’d stolen the Arkenstone and Fíli was to bring him to justice – but no, instead he found himself kissed and caressed, one hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. He asked the question with his eyes instead, and Fíli whispered, “I love you. Let us never be apart.”

 

The next day came and Fíli… was gone.

 

When he’d debated going to Moria with Balin and Óin, he went into Dale to find Sigrid… to find some sort of closure. It was that he found, though not in a way that was fortuitous to him. He’d only neared what was Sigrid’s home – not Bard’s home, noteably, meaning she was old enough to live alone – when he’d heard laughter. Ah, clear as a bell, delightful. But then the sound was marred by the addition of another, higher, older.

 

A flutter of colour at the window and Ori could see Sigrid now, more beautiful as she’d matured, kissing another woman with a gentleness Ori knew well despite the brevity of his first time with Sigrid.

 

He’d never been good at timing, but choices, choices he could make.


	6. Rebellion - Bofur/Nori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mention of blood  
> Additional tags: Established Bofur/Nori

Nori had always been in a precarious position.

 

He was spymaster to a mad king – but actually serving the forming rebellion. He passed on fake information to the former and vital information to the latter. Mayhap it was only a matter of time until he was caught.

 

Bofur didn’t know whether it was cruelty or a moment of sanity that had Thorin inviting him to visit Nori – everyone knew they were courting, on the verge of marrying, even. They’d started during the course of the quest and Bofur could still hardly believe that he could have found anyone as wonderful – if infuriating – as Nori. He was beautiful and clever and more than Bofur deserved.

 

Of course he took the opportunity to visit his love. No one knew what state Thorin’s mind was in; it was constantly in flux, though usually it wasn’t in a good place. What was he going to do to Nori?

 

The proper question should have been, Bofur realised later, what had he done to Nori?

 

When he stumbled out of the dungeons it was on shaky legs; in fact he was shaking all over, covered in a not-so-fine sweat, and all he could see was blood.


	7. Unstable - Smaug/Thorin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Physical abuse.  
> Additional tags: Probs could be taken from an AU of my I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire 'verse (which I should finish). Also, do not accept physical abuse from anyone!
> 
> Also also, thanks to alkjira for helping with the pairing. I was considering Azog/Bilbo.

Thorin didn’t recoil. He was too shocked – not by the stinging pain, not by what felt like blood welling up at the skin of his cheek. But Smaug had, had raised his hand against him. More than that, he’d made contact. It wasn’t the first time Smaug had made the threat but it was certainly the first time he’d followed through.

 

The other Dwarf was sweet and charming, and Thorin had always considered his threats jokes. Certainly, Smaug had had always laughed right after making them, no matter how frightening he’d looked just moments before. There was no way he had the capacity for violence, even if he was a soldier. He was good to Thorin, in fact the best thing that had ever happened to Thorin, they both knew it.

 

Even Smaug was frozen, his golden eyes wide. But he quickly recovered and stepped forward to take Thorin into his arms. “I am so sorry,” he said, remorse dripping from his deep voice. “I didn’t mean to.”

 

Thorin felt bad for his instinctive flinch at Smaug’s approach. Obviously it’d been a mistake. He returned Smaug’s hug. “It’s fine. I forgive you.”

 

“Don’t worry, my love. We won’t tell anyone.”


	8. Nightmare - Sigrid/Fili

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None  
> Additional tags: None

This wasn’t real.

 

Fíli knew this because he was up on a tower with Azog at his back – and Azog had been killed long ago. More than that, below them stood Sigrid, and she’d never been in a battle in her life – never would be, if Fíli had anything to say about it. (As her husband, he probably had some say about it. Maybe.) And finally, he’d had this particular dream multiple times.

 

This time it was very detailed, though. There were snowflakes clinging to his lashes and the wind was biting. The knife to his throat kept scraping against his skin whenever he or Azog moved. He could hear Sigrid calling for him, but he couldn’t call out to reassure her.

 

And suddenly he was on the ground – not thrown off but standing where Sigrid had been just moments ago. But where was Sigrid?

 

With mounting dread, blue eyes travelled to the top of the tower. Yes, she was there. And Azog was there, and he was dangling her over the edge. Without thinking he was moving, jumping onto the ice, but the Orc had already let go.

 

Fíli screamed. He screamed and screamed, but he couldn’t. Wake. Up.


	9. Denial - Bofur/Thorin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Minor character death  
> Additional tags: Post-Quest

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten in…"

 

"I'm sure." Thorin touched Bofur's chin gently. "I am fine. Go attend to our son, he needs your attention more than me."

 

Bofur tried not to let his voice wobble. "He needs your attention as well."

 

"I always see him at night, once my duties are done, and first thing in the morning."

 

"But that's not enough! Do you think that is enough?"

 

Thorin sighed. "I apologise, Bofur. No, it isn't enough. But there are things I must see to. You know how much I love him, and he - he knows as well." The miner sagged; Thorin barely managed to catch him from falling. He held his breath, waiting for what would be said next.

 

"You're right," Bofur said finally. "You’re always… I'm sorry as well, love, I just... worry you're not spending enough time with him."

 

"It is a valid concern. But it will keep. It’s time for you to eat and then rest, Bofur. I will be with you presently." 

 

Once his husband had left, Thorin collapsed into a seat and wondered when he would be brave enough to confront Bofur that their son had been dead for three decades.


	10. Invisible - Bilbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None  
> Additional tags for this chapter: None

When Bilbo had fallen down in the Goblin town in the Misty Mountains, he had not expected to be alive, much less find a creature that wanted to eat him as well as a ring that made one unseen to all. When he'd run out of his door in the Shire, he hadn't thought to put his skills at riddling to use beyond passing time around a campfire, and here he was using it to save his life. Not that it mattered in the long run, as the creature had no sense of honour - he shouldn't have been surprised at that, to be perfectly honest.

 

And now - well, adventures weren't simple, Bilbo knew that going in, but he hadn't thought that things would get quite this complicated.

 

He'd found the rest of the Company but he'd not been able to catch their attention despite the fact that they were discussing him and were at least aware of his disappearance. But no matter how much he jumped and shouted, they did not spare him even a glance. (He thought Gandalf might have looked in his direction, but that must have been coincidence.)

 

But oh! He was wearing the curious ring, of course he no one could see him. All he had to do was take it off and things would be fine -

 

Except Wargs came along, and though they also could not see him, apparently they could smell him well enough. Bilbo did as the Dwarves did and climbed a tree as quick as he could manage; at least that skill from his youth had not deserted him.

 

He didn't quite follow what happened next - though, if he wasn't mistaken, that Orc on the white Warg, that was the enemy Balin had been speaking of that night - because everything was a blur made worse by the way the ring turned everything grey and whispery. What he managed to do was curse Thorin for his stupidity - most likely the Dwarf thought it braveness - and then curse himself as he followed Thorin and prevented him from being beheaded.

 

Bilbo could only guess what it must have looked like to everyone else - they must have thought that the Orc had fallen over by itself, but it dying could not be explained away. There were confused noises from the Orcs and the Dwarves - someone shouted something, but Bilbo was far too distracted to even try to figure out what it was.

 

The White Warg had caught his scent.

 

He tried to wrench off the ring while keeping his sword in hand. He couldn't help noting that its hue was blue even with the ring on. The ring seemed stuck - but not because his finger was too big, surely. He was reminded of trying to squeeze through the crack in the rock and losing his beloved buttons. The Warg was close enough that he could smell its breath.

 

It seemed the only choice was to -


	11. Regret - Oin/Dwalin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Some mention of smut.  
> Additional tags for this chapter: None
> 
> Note: though it may sound as if this is underage, Dwalin is a fully consenting adult. It's just that there's an age difference.

This was wrong.

 

He hadn't thought it at the time of accepting Dwalin's proposition. The younger Dwarf had actually cornered him and rattled of a list of why they ought to shag - not that he'd put it so bluntly, the lad had almost been stuttering to the point of incoherency, and he'd been so red -

 

_\- red like his flushed cock, hot and hard in hand -_

 

It was just that Dwalin had made him sound so good, made him feel wanted. Apparently he looked up to Óin, was taken by the way Óin 'effortlessly' saved lives every day, as opposed to taking them away. He admired Óin, and Óin had liked the sound of that. So he agreed to bed him.

 

_\- Dwalin writhed back against the sheets, moaning in time with the creaking bed’s creaking -_

 

But there was no emotion on Óin’s part, and now he had belatedly realised that was not the case with Dwalin. The lad had feelings whereas Óin had none, and he expected them to be returned in the idealistic ways younger Dwarves did. There was only one choice at hand.

 

"Get out, Dwalin," Óin said, tossing his clothes at him.


	12. Smoke - Balin/OC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mention of the fall of Erebor  
> Additional Tags: Gender-neutral Character

It took him a long time before he could bear to pick up his pipe again.

 

Strange that he’d retained it after so many years. It had happened to be in his pocket when they’d all been forced to leave the Mountain, one of the few possessions he'd been left with after Smaug and one of the fewer he'd parted with. It would have made sense to sell it, especially when there was little money to put food in their bellies, but... they had made it for Balin specially. He couldn't sell it.

 

But even glancing at it those first few decades was pain. Being invited for a friendly pipe around the fire was pain. Accidentally catching a whiff of pipe weed was pain.

 

Not only was it a reminder of them and their gift, it was a reminder of the fire and soot when Smaug came. It was a reminder of that which engulfed them and left Balin now alone with no one to lie in his arms at night.

 

It was a reminder that Balin had been too late, just late enough to watch them fall backwards into dragonbreath and turn into ash and smoke in an instant.


	13. Cursed - Tauriel/Kili

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Death mention  
> Additional tags for this chapter: Reincarnation AU

Kíli’s death had happened so many times that Tauriel fully believed it fate.

 

It was the reason why she'd spurned his love these past few times. Perhaps keeping him away from her would keep him alive but - he was stubborn. She loved that about him. Or she used to. Now she used that as a brick in the wall she was building between them, trying to keep her heart from reaching out to his. Stubbornness, impulsiveness, inability to keep his mouth shut - no longer endearing qualities.

 

She was trying to hate him. It wasn't working, not yet. Maybe when the wall was big enough. Maybe when he'd died enough times.

 

Tauriel remembered the first time they'd ever met. He'd been an Elf that time and she'd been enchanted straightaway. Kíli hadn't been charming at all but she'd still been taken by his silly nature (especially compared to other Elves).

 

But he'd been pushed off a ledge and next thing Tauriel knew, she'd woken up in another body with another name. But the memories of her love remained.

 

And they remained each time Kíli died. Elf, Hobbit, Man, and now Dwarf... it seemed not to matter. They were cursed.


	14. Blood - Azog/Bilbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Bloodplay, BDSM-gone-wrong  
> Additional tags for this chapter: None
> 
> Note: Safewords are very important, as is finding someone who will _heed_ them!

This was a very dangerous game. One slip and it was over.

 

Bilbo could walk away at any time, though. That was one of the rules here, just say the word and the bonds would be off. (The word in this case was 'love' - something that would never be blurted out by mistake in present company, that was for sure.)

 

He hissed as the rope was tightened, but that was fine. The pain was insignificant, especially considering what would come next. He eyed the sharp edge of the knife, glinting like the teeth of his 'partner' in the lamplight, and clenched his jaw.

 

The point of the blade pressed against the center of his chest, over his sternum. It pressed and pressed, and finally the skin broke. Blood, already flushed at the surface, spilled and a single droplet slid downwards.

 

Without waiting for confirmation that this was still alright, the knife was lifted and brought back to his skin, one neat slice that went across his belly. God, this was his _first_ time, what was -

 

"Love!" Bilbo cried out, straining. "Love!"

 

Azog grinned. "Yes?"

 

"Stop, please. Love. That's the word we -"

 

"No." And down came the knife.


	15. Conceal - Dori/Balin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut  
> Additional tags for this chapter: Rule 63'd Balin, Rule 63'd Dori

It just so happened that they were both the last ones to leave the council meeting. Really. There was no reason for either to delay. Balin had to go over the minutes of the meeting, so that took time. As for Dori, she had dropped her extra hairpins and collecting each one of them was necessary. Pure coincidence that they were left in the room together.

 

"Do you need help?" Balin asked, twisting her hands together.

 

"Oh, no, no. I've got them all."

 

“I’m, er, actually happy to have the opportunity to speak with you alone.”

 

Dori looked curious. “What do you mean?”

 

Balin was sure that her face was red as carnelians. “Well, it’s just that you’re absolutely beautiful and I – I just thought… perhaps we…” Oh, where was her gift with words when she needed it? “I’ve admired you for years, you see, and, and –”

 

Luckily, she was saved by a hand on her arm. "Shall we continue this somewhere more private?"

 

* * *

 

Dori panted heavily, staring up at the ceiling. Balin's beard was tickling her thighs and it was mighty distracting - though perhaps not as distracting as the press of her tongue and fingers. Dori's hands clenched in the sheets as she concentrated on making as little noise as possible. Not that there was anyone there to overhear them, but she was no exhibitionist.

 

It was difficult, though, when Balin hummed against her. Unfair.

 

Biting her lip, Dori squeezed her eyes shut and forced her legs wider apart.

 

* * *

 

Months had passed into their… was it courting? Balin wasn’t quite sure. They hadn’t exactly gone through the proper steps, and had instead fallen into bed together with an ease that seemed impossible in Balin’s past imaginings. But perhaps their long friendship had just been a natural precursor.

 

“Balin?” Dori’s beautiful eyes flitted around them before settling on her, confusion clear in their depths. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I came to see you, my gem,” Balin said quietly, though they were alone in this part of the crystal gardens.

 

“But how did you know where I was?”

 

“I actually went to your shop first, but your assistant directed me here.”

 

“Oh.” Her expression was impossible to read, but then she smiled. “I like to come here and think. It’s very calming, and very pretty.”

 

“Much like you, my gem,” Balin said, taking up her hand and raising it to her lips.

 

Or she would have, had she not met with resistance. Even if Dori wasn’t the strongest Dwarf Balin knew – even stronger than Dwalin –, Balin immediately stopped the motion once she felt the sudden tightness of Dori’s fingers around hers.

 

“Is – what’s wrong?”

 

“We’re in public, Balin,” Dori whispered. Her smile had disappeared into a frown. “Anyone could see you.”

 

“No one is here.” _You made sure of that earlier_ , she thought, but didn’t say.

 

“Someone could walk by.”

 

Balin reared back as if slapped, and asked, in a voice she hated, “Are you _ashamed_ of me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops I dropped behind on these


	16. Punish - Kili & Bolg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Physical & mental injuries  
> Additional tags: Modern AU, Kidfic
> 
> This was prompted as Kili/Bolg, actually, but I changed it to Kili & Bolg since I don't want to repeat the abuse/S&M-gone-wrong theme too many times.  
> Btw in case it isn't clear, both Kili and Bolg are the same age here. Kids.

Coming home with scrapes and bruises wasn’t too unusual for Kíli. The boy could fall while standing still. He had an adventurous spirit coupled with an inability to sit quietly, and so getting little injuries was usually no cause for concern. Or it was cause for a little concern, but more of the ‘let me kiss the boo-boo better and listen to how you earned your wounds’ kind. Not the ‘I need to get you to the hospital, who did this to you’ kind, Dís and Víli weren’t that kind of parents.

 

But a broken nose and a black eye, along with a Kíli that refused to speak? That had them hovering.

 

Dís stroked her fingers through Kíli’s still damp hair. She’d helped him bathe away the mud caked through it and the blood dried on his skin. He’d been frighteningly silent throughout.

 

Víli strode into the room. He’d been on the phone, going through what seemed like every member of the PTA – and it looked like he finally had answers.

 

“It was another kid – Bolg,” he said quietly.

 

“Azog’s child,” Dís said, equally quietly, but with more venom.

 

“I deserved it,” was the even quieter comment from their son.


	17. Lies - Fili/Bofur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None  
> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Not-quite jumping to conclusions.
> 
> Thanks to alkjira, without whom this literally wouldn't exist.

“Nah, you just missed him, mate,” Todd said affably, settling back in her chair with her hands folded behind her head. “Said he was knocking off early.”

 

Bofur tried not to let on his hurt, because Fíli had specifically said that he was at the office. Bofur had come to surprise him and now to find out that he’d lied… It wouldn’t have been such a big deal had Fíli not done this several times in just the past few weeks. But how come he’d lie to his boyfriend of five years and not to his boss of two? “Did he happen to say where he was headed off to? Thought we could have dinner together or summat.”

 

“Maybe he’s off to the clinic again?”

 

“Clinic?”

 

And that was how Bofur found himself at Grand Mercy Hospital – which wasn’t a clinic, thank you Todd – wondering how on earth he’d find Fíli in all this 21-storey mess. Though he was willing to give Fíli the benefit of the doubt, Bofur couldn’t help the creeping feeling that his more-successful, more-handsome boyfriend was here to see a doctor in a more social sense.

 

He couldn’t have been more wrong, as it turned out.


	18. Panic - Beorn/Bilbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Description of panic attack  
> Additional Tags for this Chapter: None

Bilbo had never seen Beorn in this state before.

 

To be honest he couldn’t even remember what had set this off. Not when his whole world had condensed into watching Beorn completely shut down.

 

Beorn was curled in on himself as much as he could – not easy, when it came to a man of his size and build. He was not rocking back and forth but his left leg was jittery, heel going taptaptaptaptap against the floor while the rest of him remained still. He did not respond to any of Bilbo’s calls. His breath came in short puffs and gasps, quicker and quicker. There were beads of sweat gathering at his temples and above his upper lip.

 

Instinctively, Bilbo reached out to grasp Beorn’s shoulder. It seemed like the right thing to do; if nothing else it would provide grounding contact to bring Beorn back to the present. He did not expected Beorn to lash out – considering their size difference, this forced Bilbo onto his arse, heart beating furiously in his surprise.

 

Right. Touching was a bad idea, apparently. Bilbo got his feet under him again, getting close but not… not too close.

 

“Beorn. Please. Come back to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk, I feel like, considering Beorn's background, that he'd potentially have panic attacks.  
> Also re the touching, as far as I can figure out from research that's personal to each person? It might not be a good idea, but some sources it's recommended? Idk, if you've more information don't hesitate to share.


	19. Chains/Shackles - The Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Torture (ish), Starvation  
> Additional Tags for this Chapter: an AU where the Mirkwood Elves are darker than they already are

How many days had it been? Or weeks? Months? Had they missed Durin’s Day already?

 

The hours blurred together. First because of the spider poison, which had made them lethargic and heavy-limbed, easy prey for spiders and Elves alike. The puncture wound was green and sickly looking, but damned if he knew if they would receive any medical attention before dying of infection.

 

Boredom and hatred made things worse. They’d been separated into one Dwarf per cell and every attempt to communicate between them had been shut down quickly and efficiently. The Elves knew the exact points of application of their weapons down to an art, and they weren’t hesitant in demonstrating said skill.

 

The latest scheme to get them talking was to ration their food – or, a less kind way of saying it, starving them. Perhaps Elves could survive on less compared to a mortal but Dwarves needed at least two substantial meals a day. Fine, even one would be enough considering they were not doing much outside of being stuck in their cells, but they did not receive even that much.

 

He refused to sleep. Not when every time he closed his eyes it could be the last…


	20. Haunted - Bag End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *laughs nervously* So, it's been awhile eh? I'm definitely going to finish this. Not going to abandon it for a year again. Promise. *runs*
> 
>  
> 
> Warning: None  
> Additional tags for this chapter: Alternate Universe, Horror/Supernatural, Dark, Implied Character Death (?)

The door had been nailed shut. It was old enough that the blue paint underneath showed through in more than one place, though the rune scratched into it was still visible. One of the many stories cited this as the starting place of Mad Baggins’ whole adventure.

 

These weren’t stories told in polite company; they were whispered in secret, as if those telling them were afraid they’d summon unwanted visitors, just as unwanted visitors had been the cause of all of this in the first place. Dwarves were uncouth savages and all they had brought to the Baggins’ doorstep was darkness and disrepute. It was often the opinion of proper, respectable Hobbits that Bungo and Belladonna would not have wanted their only son to sully the Baggins name as he had.

 

Hobbitlings would dare each other to slip past the gate and touch the door. Many faltered simply by catching sight of the dead oak tree that hung over the hill like a many-fingered spectre, appearing to move in the periphery of one’s vision even though it never stirred in the wind. Those who managed to ignore it often ran away when the gate creaked open on rusted hinges, claiming to their peers that they hadn’t even touched it, honest! Not a one of them had ever made it past the gate and through the barren garden, but it didn’t stop them from creeping up Bagshot Row especially nearing All Hallows’ Eve despite the best efforts of the Gamgees.

 

But the children were not why there were boards across the door. Sometime in Wedmath of 2942, the Sackville-Bagginses had barged in, their patience at being denied what was ‘rightfully theirs’ at an apparent end.

 

Strangely, not long after forcibly entering, the two of them ran out as if their heels were afire. According to the gossips, they’d claimed to have been trapped in there for years but that hardly seemed credible or even possible. Anyone glancing at the smial might have felt inexplicable foreboding and fear, but the idea of anything in the Shire containing dark magic was laughable, much less dark magic capable of distorting time.

 

Still, even the deepest of sceptics could not explain away the weight Lobelia and Otho had lost within the minutes they’d been in Bag End, or the pale gauntness that’d settled over their features, or their sudden and vehement denial of having anything to do with the smial they’d coveted for so long.

 

Only one other person had made it through the gate: Frodo Baggins. He’d been the armed with hammer and nails, periodically fetching boards passed to him by his friend Samwise (who did so over the fence, refusing to go closer).

 

Despite differing versions of why Bag End was in its current state, everyone in Hobbiton knew one thing to be true:

 

Mad Baggins had returned from his adventure, had stormed past the auction on his doorstep, and had slammed the door behind him – and since then he’d never, ever left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I've got some of the next prompts written up already, but feel free to keep throwing prompts my way - though have a look at what's already been written, I try not to repeat pairings too much.
> 
> Thanks!


	21. Abducted - Dori & Nori & Ori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mention of Kidnapping, Mention of Extortion, Offscreen Violence.  
> Additional tags for this chapter: Pre-Quest.

Dori’s reputation as an extremely strong Dwarf – possibly the strongest in Ered Luin – was established when Ori was still young. It could even be said that it’d been established _because_ Ori was still young.

 

Nori had barely been older, though he got into as much trouble as he had then as he did now. Perhaps more, seeing as it was essentially his fault that Ori had been captured. The letter that’d been clutched in Nori’s shaking hand had called it ‘ _equivalent exchange_ ’ for the gold and jewels they wanted Nori to obtain for them.

 

Despite his protests, Dori forbade Nori from following. “You’ve done enough!” Nori only obeyed because he’d been shocked silent by Dori’s raised voice – more than his words –, his face green-tinged and terrified.

 

But after Dori returned with Ori in his tired arms, he discovered that Nori had left to ‘spare’ them the bother of having him around. Dori cleaned himself and Ori off by rote, setting aside their blood-stained clothes since they couldn’t afford to throw them, and after he managed to put Ori to bed he lay awake with tears on his cheeks and wondered how he had managed to fail both his brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder to comment and to prompt!


	22. Barren - the Shire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Destruction, Mass Death  
> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Alternate Universe

When the Dragon came, it flew over the Shire without seeming to notice its inhabitants. It flew straight to the mountain where the Dwarves lived, burning Mannarill down on its way.

 

The Hobbit scouts that lined the borders were not fast enough to return in time for any useful warning; in fact, by the time the earliest reached, the village was completely aflame and plumes of smoke emerged from the gates of Erebor.

 

Dwarves fleeing their home went first to the Hobbits, urging that they leave. But Hobbits put down roots more firmly than any other peoples and would not be swayed. They mourned their lost, they housed survivors who stayed, and they sent the rest off with all the supplies they could spare – but they refused to leave their homes.

 

Smaug did not seem bothered with anything without the Mountain, thoroughly entranced by the treasure in Erebor. The Dragon’s evil still touched the Hobbits. It was a slower death than by fire; as time passed, so Smaug’s influence spread. The ashes of Mannarill seemed to spread outwards – wild and domesticated animals fled, the sun seemed cold overhead, and no seed would take in the desolate soil.

 

The Shire emptied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The village mentioned here and the whole Erebor being beside the Shire is from my fic [A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2788958/chapters/6259208). So maybe an alternate universe of that... or possible future?


	23. Drown - Bard & the Bardlings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Major Character Death  
> Additional tags for this chapter: Alternate Universe

“Bain!”

 

He looked up in time to catch Tilda as she launched herself into his arms. Sigrid held back, her eyes taking in the soot in his hair and the cuts on his hands. She flinched when Percy, standing behind her, suddenly called out.

 

“It was Bard! He killed the dragon! I saw it with my own eyes. He brought the beast down. He shot him dead, with a black arrow.”

 

A cheer went up, too loud. He couldn’t hear Sigrid, but watched her lips form a question he did not want to answer: “ _Where’s Da_?”

 

Eyes burning, Bain found himself without words, even though he’d been trying all this time to come up with an explanation for his sisters, an explanation they deserved. But all that came to mind was the image of their father dying before him.

 

Bard had pushed them both off the tower to avoid the Dragon, which had then knocked the remains of the building over them. Bain hadn’t realised until too late that Bard had been speared through and held underwater until he’d seen the bubbles – and then the blood.

 

He didn’t have words – but one glance at Sigrid told him she already knew.


	24. Fight - Dwalin/Kili

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Canonical Main Character Death (mentioned), Underage  
> Additional tags for this chapter: None

“We can’t do this.”

 

“You keep saying that, but I don’t think you believe it.” Kíli raised his eyebrows. “Because _this_? This keeps happening.”

 

“It’s a mistake every time,” Dwalin said, almost growling, not missing the flinch. Best hammer the point home. “What about that Elf you were sniffing around? She tired of you already so you decide to slink back here?”

 

Apparently that was the right (wrong?) thing to say, because Kíli immediately stormed off without replying, his earlier argument of wanting to spend the night – potentially their last – abandoned. It hurt, but Dwalin had already made his decision. He and the older members of the Company would do all they could in the battle tomorrow to make sure the younger generation survived. If tomorrow was to be anyone’s last, it would be Dwalin’s, not Kíli’s.

 

Of course, Dwalin always underestimated Kíli’s stubbornness. While that character trait had first manifested in somehow worming his way into Dwalin’s bed, he surpassed himself by going up to Ravenhill with his brother despite strict instructions otherwise. And what had happened? Both he and his brother (and their uncle) were dead.

 

Whereas Dwalin lived on, memories his only company for the next century.


	25. Starve - Fíli & Víli

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Deliberate Starvation  
> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Inaccurate Ages
> 
> (I'm aware that Fili is only 5 years Kili's senior, but I'm bumping that up for purposes of this ficlet.)

“Fíli, you’re late! Almost missed your supper.”

 

“Ah, ‘Adad!” He looked stricken, as if surprised someone at home was awake. He quickly put his pack aside, pushing a hand through his hair. “I’ve, uh, I’ve already eaten.”

 

Víli raised his eyebrows. “You stopped by Mistress Thistle’s again?”

 

“Yes.”

 

A sigh. “You might have sent word, Fíli.”

 

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t exactly planned.”

 

Víli reached out and tousled his son’s hair. “If you didn’t like your father’s cooking, you could say so.”

 

“It’s not that,” he laughed. “Really. Is ‘Amad asleep already?”

 

“Aye. Though she’ll likely wake again by midnight. She’s never very comfortable when she’s pregnant, we discovered that before you were born.”

 

“Well, when she wakes she can have whatever you put aside for me.” Still fidgeting with his hair, Fíli quirked a smile as he backed away. “G’night ‘Adad.”

 

Víli let his son retreat to his room. “Sleep well, Fíli.” He went into the kitchen, feeling like he was missing something. It wasn’t until his son fainted in his arms after weeks claiming to be fed by a kindly Mistress Thistle to find out that the woman had never existed – because “Amad deserves the food more than me.”


	26. Monster - Dori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mention of Major Character Deaths  
> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Nightmares, Horror
> 
> Note: I made a mistake and posted yesterday's ficlet in place of today's, which is why this is the one with 500 words and not chapter 25.

When Dori was a Dwarfling, he’d been afraid of the dark.

 

He could not precisely articulate what it was that frightened him, only that he often spent half the night awake. Terror gripped him, just like whatever being underneath the bed would presumably reach up and lay its many-fingered grasp on him. Dori kept his arms and legs wrapped by a blanket so no wayward limb could be snatched by unseen forces.

 

Neither Nori nor Ori seemed to face the same problem during their respective youths. The former because Nori seemed fearless in any situation, the latter because Ori was always more absorbed in whatever book he’d sneaked into bed with him. Dori never had to comfort them about invisible beings, and that suited him just fine. To be honest, during those times he was more concerned about his brothers getting actual sleep instead of sneaking out – Nori – or reading the night away – Ori.

 

Eventually he grew out of his fear. More adult worries kept him awake at night. It was hard to focus on an abstract _thing_ that only existed in the scant space beneath the bed when there were more real concerns. Like whether his sales were enough that month to cover expenses, whether Nori would be able to keep out of jail for once, whether Ori was offered the opportunities he deserved.

 

Then came the quest, and the fact that there was no bed in the first place, and therefore no horrors accompanying it. In fact, barring a few instances, Dori slept better in those months than at any other in his life, merely by having his family and friends close to him as he slept.

 

After Smaug’s defeat and the reclamation of Erebor, Dori was rarely alone in his bed. He’d always been considered a beautiful Dwarf but he had rebuffed advances from others while Nori and Ori had been under his roof. Now they were making names for themselves and so there was no harm in allowing enjoyment. He was no hot-blooded youth, but Dori prided himself on being an expert on the finer things in life – and that included having his bed warmed by more than just himself.

 

When the news arrived of the fall of Moria, and with it the deaths of Ori and their friends, Dori was old. He’d come by the information from Nori who, a few weeks later after too much to drink, let his tongue run and received a swift knife between the ribs.

 

The nightmares returned but were no longer formless. Every night Dori lay still and shaking, staring up at the ceiling and pretending that he could not hear the scratch of nails on stone over whispers of his name. Sometimes the sheets shifted beneath him, as if someone was tugging on them.

 

Dori braved a peek only once. Surely he would see nothing but air. He didn’t count on meeting his brothers’ eyes, wide and accusing as four hands reached out and locked around his neck.


	27. Last Dance - Tauriel/Legolas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None  
> Additional Tags for this Chapter: First Love

On most nights, Tauriel could be found amongst the forest canopy. She seemed to love the stars more than anyone else. There were few sights as beautiful as Tauriel’s eyes full of starlight and wonder as she stared up at the sky, so surely Legolas couldn’t be faulted for falling for her as quickly as he had. They spent most of their time together, training, talking, laughing, living, loving.

 

That they were young seemed not to bother them; in fact, Tauriel once called them lucky since they’d found each other so quickly. Legolas thought it lucky they’d found each other at all.

 

700 years after their first meeting, Legolas asked Tauriel for a dance during the Festival of Starlight. That night she seemed ethereal, long hair unbound, falling straight and gleaming to her waist. His hands were damp but she held them tightly all the same. Nothing existed outside of the music and the starlight and the calm expression on Tauriel’s face. He could look away only for seconds before his gaze returned to those green eyes, brighter than sunlight on newly sprouted leaves.

 

Legolas thought their love would last forever – both of them did.

 

And then the Dwarves arrived.


	28. Waiting - Thorin/Bofur/Bilbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Implied Mental Breakdown  
> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Alternate Universe - Everybody Lives/Nobody Dies, Post-Erebor Reclamation, Threesome - M/M/M

_It just for a while,_ he said. _To get my affairs in order. You’ll hardly know I was gone._

 

That was three years ago.

 

_Don’t be silly. Both of you have important work so now’s the best time to go. That way I won’t be underfoot._

 

Restoration efforts in Erebor certainly did take a long time – in fact, they weren’t fully complete yet, but it was more than liveable. Thorin had thrown himself into organising various efforts of mitigating the damage Smaug had done. Bofur had overseen the reopening of many of the old mines to start bringing money in.

 

_I’ve the shirt, and Sting, and my ring. I’ll be perfectly alright._

 

Though they had each other, Thorin and Bofur felt the absence of Bilbo keenly. To be reductive, the Hobbit was the glue that held them together, and after months of fighting and worrying they decided to make the journey and bring Bilbo back. Hearts lighter than they’d been for a long time, Thorin and Bofur left Erebor just after Durin’s Day.

 

_I promise I’ll be back. I love you both, remember?_

 

When they arrived in the Shire, they found that the Hobbit they loved had lost his mind.


	29. Letters - Kili/Ori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mention of Physical Injuries, Mention of Amputation  
> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Post-BoFA, Alternate Universe - Everybody Lives/Nobody Dies

Kíli was grateful that he had woken up after the battle and stayed awake.

 

It did take some weeks before he was able to remain conscious for more than minutes at a time. The catalogue of his injuries seemed endless; he fell asleep the first few times the healers tried to list them out. Broken ribs, punctured lungs, flesh-deep lacerations, cracked skull, crushed ankle, internal bleeding –

 

Ugh. Well, all that explained why he felt as if he’d faced Durin’s Bane alone – though, if he had, burns might have been part of the aforementioned list. Best not to give the healers something else to lecture him about.

 

Kíli had thought Oín bad, but the two healers that were assigned him were worse. They refused to update him on the Company’s condition – beyond the fact that they were somehow all alive – because they wanted him to concentrate on his own health. This seemed stupid, because all that happened was Kíli worrying about what ifs.

 

None of that prepared him, though, for when he sneaked away and found sweet, beautiful Ori crying over parchment and ink – or, more accurately, the quill in his left hand and the stump that remained of his right.


	30. Reality - Thorin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mental Illness, Goldsickness, Multiple Major Character Death (?)  
> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Present tense, Reality or not??? (Even the author is confused)

Thorin wakes with a gasp. He is alone and unhurt.

 

Can he be in the Maker’s Hall? He has no way of knowing for sure, but after a while, Thorin decides that he isn’t. He knows the stone around him and it is Erebor. He gets to his feet, swaying for a moment, but presses forward. How can he be in the Mountain when the last thing he remembers is fighting Azog outside it?

 

When he comes across Dwalin sleeping in the hallway he’s momentarily confused. When he reaches down his hand comes away wet with blood and Thorin recoils. His mind chooses to replay memories of threatening his cousin – _Get out… before I kill you!_ – but it couldn’t have been he that cut Dwalin down, surely?

 

But the dagger buried in Dwalin’s back bears the mark of Durin –

 

Thorin wakes, and this time he is on the parapets. He is still without wounds, but Dwalin is alive beside him. There is an army of Elves before them, Thranduil and Bard mounted at the fore, but a deathly pall of silence seems to have fallen. Confusion clouds Thorin’s mind; he recalls a lot of shouting, the glint of the Arkenstone below, and –

 

Bilbo.

 

Bilbo is crumpled in a heap on the ground. From the way the Company has recoiled, clearly Thorin had made good on his threat. But he hadn’t been in his right mind, and anyway Bilbo was alive, he’d been by Thorin’s side when he’d been clinging to the last vestiges of life. This had to be magic, some construct with Bilbo’s face and eyes and blood –

 

When Thorin wakes this time, there’s a bitter tang of bile at the back of his throat. He is no stranger to nightmares but these past few ones have been terrible. He glances about. It must be this damn dungeon, and these damn Elves. Their sorcery must weave about the cells to call forth the worst fears in prisoners’ minds, all the better to force confessions. But Thorin will not break.

 

Not even when Thranduil himself comes to the bars. Thorin cares not where the Elf chooses to do his gloating. All he thinks about are the days they’ve already wasted here. Making it to Erebor by Durin’s Day is their only hope. Any quarrel Thranduil had with Thror is not his concern – he says as much.

 

A sigh, as if the Elf is capable of the compassion he is trying to affect. “I thought you would say as much.” He half turns, twitching his fingers at the guards. “If you were more cooperative, I’m sure we could’ve found a less bloody way to move forward.”

 

Thorin slams against the bars. “Torture me, then. You’ll get nothing from me.”

 

“It’s not you I’m talking about,” Thranduil replies mildly. “And not torture.”

 

He sees bright hair and then dark. His sister-sons stare at him with dead eyes, blank but accusing, _you know nothing of the world_ –

 

Thorin wakes.

 

Thorin wakes.

 

Thorin wakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one tomorrow! Still got one more chance for a prompt.


	31. Death - Thorin & Fili & Kili (modern)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Minor Character Death (offscreen)  
> Additional Tags for this Chapter: Grief, Kidfic, Modern AU
> 
> (This is part of a modern AU that involved changing everyone's names to more 'appropriate' versions. Obvs I never got around to finishing it. Posting it here because I'm not feeling well, but I do want to finish this fic this year.)

“I don’t wanna be here,” Fílip complained bitterly as Thorne closed and locked the door to his apartment.

 

Kíllian said nothing. He was curled up into his brother’s side, thumb firmly in his mouth – a habit Thorne had thought him rid of a year ago.

 

“It’s only for awhile, Fílip,” Thorne said, trying to force cheeriness into his tone. He let his hand come to a rest on scraggly blond locks. “Until your Ma gets some things settled.”

 

“What things? Why can’t we stay there? Doesn’t she love us anymore?”

 

“Oh, kiddo, of course she does. She loves you two more than life itself. She loves you more than she loves me.” This attempt at humour fell very flat. Fílip did not crack a smile, instead sniffing mightily.

 

A tiny voice broke in. “I wanna go home,” Kíllian said tearfully. “Where Daddy?”

 

“Kíli…” Fílip reached out to take his brother’s hand, but Kíllian snatched it away.

 

“No! Where Daddy?”

 

Thorne stifled a sigh, and went to his knees. He wiped away a stray tear on Kíllian’s cheek with his thumb. “Your Daddy… he’s not here.” He winced. He had no fucking idea how to talk to children. “He’s gone, buddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think! ~~And you can request pairings if you like, I'mma try not to repeat them for more than one prompt.~~
> 
> P.S. Astardanced77 is writing the non-angsty equivalent of this fic over on the link below, so check it out~
> 
> P.P.S. I'm going with MWord's wordcount, how hateful that it's different across different mediums.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Anti-Angst August](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7757281) by [Astardanced77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astardanced77/pseuds/Astardanced77)




End file.
